Suddenly
by Eisee does it
Summary: He knew it was only temporary. Orion was never his to keep. The Covenant warned him so, and he must never forget that. Inspired by "Suddenly" from Les Mis. Just glimpses into Alpha Trion's life as he raises young Orion Pax. Fluff, angst in later chapters
1. The Great Bedtime Debates

Title: Suddenly

Author: Eiseedoesit

Rating: G-PG-13 in later chapters

Genre: Family, drama

Disclaimer: Transformers and all the places and characters associated with the franchise, is not owned by me.

Summary: He knew it was only temporary. Orion was never his to keep. The Covenant warned him so, and he must never forget that. Inspired by "Suddenly" from Les Mis.

A/N: "Infinite Night" is getting very heavy to write, with all the dark things that go on in that fic. So, to preserve my sanity I'm writing this little fic on the side, one lighter and much sweeter. Has nothing to do with IN by the way. Just my attempt at fluff. Oh, and kudos for those who can name the reference to another author and her fic in this chapter.

1: The Great Bedtime Debates

"No…not yet….one more please, please grandsire?" The sparkling dragged out the words for as long as he could, a single hiccup escaping midway. He fussed as his caretaker lifted him up from the stacks of datapads scattered on the table, grabbing the closest one only to have it slip away from his tiny fingers.

"And then after that you'll just ask for another, and another. I know your tricks, little one, and if I grant your wish I shall soon run out of stories to tell."

"Then tell them again." The mechling said. He tossed and turned in his caretaker's massive arms. He thumped his fingers against the metal, counting all the stories he recently heard, "I can read them to you if you want grandsire! The Laughing Moon, the Race of the Wreckers, The Curse of Kaon, The Ballad of Andromeda the Warrior—"

"Which you've heard me read many times over. If I was given a drop of energon for each time you begged for that story I'd have enough to drown in." The Archivist chuckled. The soft rumble made the tiny child giggle, "Besides, they'll be many more nights for many more stories. And right now, it is time for recharge."

"But I don't needa sweep." The mechling insisted even as his words slurred. His blue helm drifted down to rest on his guardian's strong shoulder. "Warriors don't sleep. Andromeda didn't sleep. She did things you know."

"Oh, and are you a warrior now?"

"Uh huh." The sparkling mumbled, smacking his tired lips together and yawning some more, "And I'm gonna do things too…lots of things."

Orion barely spoke in the presence of others, and it seemed like the words he harbored up all day were strategically released just before the time for recharge. The Archivist rubbed comforting circles on the sparkling's back, quickly soothing the talkative mechling to sleep.

"Yes, you will my little spark, and one of those things is to rest. Even the mightiest warriors must listen to their grandsires and creators when they're told to go to recharge so they can keep up their strength. "

"No they don't." Orion picked his helm up and pouted, "The Thirteen didn't have grandsires that told them to recharge and they still beat Unicron." Alpha Trion tried not to laugh at the sight. The sparkling inherited Prima's scowl. It both pained and comforted him to realize the strong resemblance. The young one was becoming more and more like his ancestor every day.

"Trust me, they did." Alpha Trion said, gently guiding the blue helm back to rest on his shoulder.

"No they didn't." Orion mumbled.

"Oh, so you don't trust me?" Alpha Trion feigned hurt in his voice. Orion immediately fussed in his arms and drew closer to the older mech's face, his wide optics full of guilt.

"No!" Orion said, "I do trust you, grandsire I do."

"Then go to sleep my brave warrior. And tomorrow I will let you visit Jazz. You would like that wouldn't you?"

The Archivist rubbed comforting circles on the sparkling's back, quickly soothing the talkative mechling.

"Yes sir," Orion said, allowing the bot to settle him down.

"Then go to sleep. When you wake in the morning, I'll take you to see him. Do you accept the terms of this agreement my little warrior?"

"Yes grandsire,"

"Very good, my little spark, very good indeed."

And with that the great Archivist made the long walk through the Hall of Records to where he and his would be warrior resided. There were elaborate tapestries made from light decorating the immense walls of the Halls and surrounding corridors, each one illustrating a story from Cybertron's golden age. And he could hear Orion mumble the name and story of each one as they passed by, his tiny voice growing softer and softer with each step.

Orion's optics grew heavily. The warmth of his caretaker's spark comforted him. The security he felt as his grandsire held and rocked him sent him into a slow but peaceful slumber.

When they reached their quarters, Alpha Trion carefully pulled the sparkling from against his shoulder and set him upon his cradle where a soft warming blanket and piles of datapads were waiting for him.

Orion groaned as his sleep was disturbed from the sudden loss of his grandsire's warm spark. He quickly grabbed the blanket and got lost in it, so much so that Alpha Trion had to dig his helm out and tuck the material properly away from his face. The sparkling's optics remained shut, but he yawned and stretched and muttered something about fighting off Unicron with the Primes, but the Star Saber got eaten by Jazz and now they'll have to wait for Solus Prime to make a new one out of rust-sticks.

"Orion," Alpha Trion brushed his fingers gently against the sparkling's blue helm.

"Yessum grandsire?" Orion half-answered. He curled up tighter in his blanket, mouth already dripping out drool. Alpha Trion cleaned the edge of his mouth and fixed the edges of the fabric, taking care that nothing would snag on the sparkling's armor as he fought Unicron in his sleep.

"Go easy on them. Those Primes aren't as young as you."

The sparkling stirred, opened his optics slightly, blinked, tilted his helm and smiled.

"You're silly. But I'll try grandsire."

"Very good," Alpha Trion said as he leaned over to kiss the sparkling's helm, "Very good indeed."

TBC

A/N: How did it go? No one died yet or was about to. That's an accomplishment for me. And little Orion's favorite story "Andromeda the Warrior" is property of Andromeda Prime and her "Amnesiac" story-arc. Leave a review please, for it nourishes the spirit.


	2. Childhood Heroics

Title: Suddenly

Author: Eiseedoesit

Rating: G-PG-13 in later chapters

Genre: Family, drama

Disclaimer: Transformers and all the places and characters associated with the franchise, is not owned by me.

Summary: He knew it was only temporary. Orion was never his to keep. The Covenant warned him so, and he must never forget that. Inspired by "Suddenly" from Les Mis.

* * *

2: Childhood Heroics

"I just wanted to help." Orion mumbled, grateful that the steam from the water masked how unbearably full of moisture his optics were. When his guardian didn't reply the youngling simply stared at the mixed pool of dirty water and cleaning solvent at his mucky feet.

Alpha Trion stood above him, scrubbing away the mud and chunks of earth that got into the blue and red armor. He didn't smile or frown; his faceplates were unreadable as he washed the tell-tale signs of Orion's latest mishap.

It seemed that the young one had a tendency for the extremes. He rarely got into any trouble, being more inclined to quieter and gentler pursuits. And Alpha Trion was grateful for such a mild-mannered child. But when the mechling decided to do something bold, he did so without thinking. When the child was reckless, all his intelligence seemed to fly right out of his processor, leaving Alpha Trion to resolve the mess he created. Case in point, the incident earlier in the streets where the youngling tried to pursue a petty thief. It was a noble idea, in concept. Unfortunately his involvement only slowed the real law enforcement officers and ended with three broken shop stalls, a drunken brawl, Orion covered helm to pedal in mud, and a series of rather lovely tickets with pretty little numbers indicating the fines incurred. Fines that Alpha Trion took sole responsibility for.

"You should not have gone after him." The Archivist finally spoke. Orion hissed and flinched when his guardian wiped warm solvent against a fresh bruise, "What the thief stole from the shop owner was barely worth a servo-full of tin. It was completely irresponsible and dangerous for you to try to catch him."

"But Grandsire, you said—"

"I think we'll have to cease reading those stories to you for a while. Not after this incident."

"But grandsire!" Orion pleaded, genuinely horrified at the threat of having his stories taken away, "It's not the stories fault. Please grandsire, I'll never chase after anyone ever again."

"Next thing I know as soon as I turn my back, you'll be jumping off the Citadel trying to fly like Fell-Wing the Great."

"Grandsire, it's Fell-Wing the Brave," Orion piped up, daring to correct _the_ master librarian, "And of course I can't fly. I'm a grounder. Like you."

"And like me you shouldn't involve yourself in another bot's duties. The law enforcers are the ones that deal with criminals, not younglings and certainly not you."

"But you said that it's good to help others, and it's bad to steal." Orion said, "But if I don't help others, that's not good. So if I don't help, then that means I'm bad. And if I let someone else steal, it means I'm letting them be bad too right?" His blue optics looked up in confusion. He sniffled and groaned, his young processor aching from the conflicting messages, "Grandsire my helm hurts."

Alpha Trion sighed. If Orion only knew a fraction of the moral dilemmas his ancestors encountered the poor child would never smile or sleep again.

"Orion, it's certainly true that it is good to help others. But I want you to be safe."

"So is being safe better than helping others?"

The question caught him off guard. Orion stared up at him patiently. The youngling sneezed, and as the foamy bubbles scattered the Archivist finally answered

"At times yes," The Alpha Trion said, "When helping others may endanger your life, sometimes it's best to save yourself."

"But that's not very nice," Orion said, his voice dropping in disappointment. He frowned as the water trickled down his faceplates, "If something bad happened grandsire, like….like if the sky was falling or…um…or if really bad mechs came to hurt us… I don't think I can save myself."

"Oh little spark, that is exactly what I'm here for," Alpha Trion said, "To read you stories, hold up the sky, and keep the bad mechs way."

"And to clean me up after I fall in mud," Orion added, he played with the bubbles, casting them into various shapes before breaking them apart with a splash.

After some time, Alpha Trion lifted Orion out of the cleaning pool onto a pile of fresh cloth. The sparkling laughed, his problems temporarily forgotten as his guardian gently scrubbed the remaining water from behind his audios. Alpha Trion smiled, thanking Primus that the child was satisfied enough with his answers to grant them both some peace.

"Wait a second."

Oh Primus, he spoke too soon.

"Grandsire, you said before that it's best to save yourself. But then later you said you've save me if something bad was gonna happen…"

"By the grace of Primus little one, you can hold your own against those in the lawyer caste." Alpha Trion laughed, hoping that Orion would be distracted long enough for him to change the subject. Unfortunately for the Archivist, the child was a ridiculously quick and focused thinker.

"Grandsire, this is serious," Orion exclaimed, a bit hurt that his guardian was taking his concerns as a joke, "So if I someone bad snatched me and it was dangerous to go after me, would you look for me or—"

"Orion, what kind of question is that?" The Archivist said, "I may be old but I'll tear out every wall in Iacon with my bare servos just to find you."

"But you said it's better to just be safe—"

"Oh little spark, sometimes the answers change. It is not only just yes or no, black or white, day or night." Alpha Trion tried to explain, "It is good to help others, but you are still very small, too young to get involved with such matters. Especially in chasing down a criminal. You could have gotten very hurt quite easily."

"I know," Orion said sheepishly, "I know…I just wanted to help."

"And I'm glad that you have that desire in you, that you're willing to help those in need," Alpha Trion said, "But it isn't time for that yet."

"Wadda you mean grandsire?"

Alpha Trion wrapped him up in a bundle of dry blankets. The sparkling peeked from the white cloths, his optics wide, shining, and innocent.

"You'll understand when you're older." The Archivist simply said, patting the child's blue helm, "Much, much older, but for now we will let it go."

"But how much older do I have to be to help?" Orion asked, "To be a hero?"

"Old," Alpha Trion said, hoping to end the argument and move on to lighter things, "At least as old as me."

"But..but that's gonna take forever! No one's as old as you grandsire!"

"Why you little sparkbite—"

The sparkling yelped and squirmed out of his guardian's hold, laughing and leaping as the once-dry bundle of cloth flew behind him. He ran out the washroom, shouting something about playing 'gladiators' with Jazz.

"Orion of house Pax, get back here this instant!" Alpha Trion called after him. The old mech vented heavily, marveling at how so much energy can be contained in something so small.

"Oh Primus, grant me grace and patience. This child will be the death of me."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Feel free to suggest what kinds of childhood experiences with Orion you'll want to read about :) Review if you can, thanks!


	3. Love BugsEveryone!

A/N: Woohoo, thanks for the reviews and suggestions dear readers I'm gonna get to them as soon as I can. For now, here's a very belated Valentines-inspired chap. I couldn't post it time cause of work. But anyways, enjoy! :D Oh, and this story has slash and Alpha Trion going a little ooc, I honestly don't think he'd react _this _bad but it's a fluff fic so….I can do what I want XD Grammar mistakes are all mine.

* * *

3: Love Bugs…Everyone

With a good chuckle, the Archivist studied the tiny writing tablets littered over Orion's desk. There were several of them, each one with a scribble of two little sparklings holding hands and a short message above them. One of the drawn sparklings was small, red, blue, with his trademark audios messily sticking of his helm.

The writing tablets had some of the most cliché and eye-rolling phrases of affection. There were simple things like _"Be Mine," "You are the light of my life," "You are beautiful,"_ and _"You are special."_ And then there were silly ones like _"You are fun. You make my spark jump,"_ and _"If I had a credit for each mech as cute as you. I'd have one credit,"_ and _"You like books. I like you. Can I check you out?" _

Alpha Trion was amused by that last one. There weren't many students in Orion's class that seemed to find joy in books. But perhaps that is why Orion liked him enough to try his servo at writing correspondences of affection. In all honesty, Trion wasn't one to encourage such frivolous crushes, having seen enough of young love to know that it wouldn't last past sparkling-hood. He was a serious mech when it came to matters of the spark, but reading Orion's attempts to woo another made him smile from the sheer silliness of it.

And the fact that Orion already had a difficult time speaking up in his class gave these little love notes a measure of comfort to Trion. At least now, Orion had someone to look forward to each day in his class, and someone he'd be willing to express himself to. Besides, it was a harmless crush and he didn't want to (no pun intended) crush the little mech's spark by saying that his love letters weren't exactly masterpieces of romance.

"Grandsire?" A tiny voice peeped up from the doorway.

"Ah, Orion," The Archivist said, "Come over here. I wish to talk to you about these writings."

If Trion hadn't been busy gathering up the writing tablets, he would have seen the color drain from Orion's face. The sparkling had the look of unmasked horror and embarrassment. The sparkling approached the Archivist slowly, shuffling his pedals and trying to look anywhere else besides those cringe-worthy letters.

"These letters you've written," Trion began, reminding himself to be sensitive and not laugh, "Are very….sweet. Now, I don't want you to think that I'm mad at you for liking someone. It's very normal and I'm actually happy you liked someone enough to write to them. But remember, little spark, that you're still very young for anything remotely serious. You're just a sparkling and studies comes first. Inspiration is a wonderful thing but –-"

"But grandsire—" Orion tried to speak up, but he couldn't speak loudly enough for Trion to actually stop his sermon about the joys of first love and the perils of getting distracted by said love, or the necessity to keep one's focus on completing schoolwork.

"You're at the top of your advanced class, and a model student. Like I said before, inspiration is good but your responsibilities come first. Now, I think these letters are perfectly fine, but if you want me to help you come up with….more eloquent ones, I can certainly do that. After you finish your assigned reading for tonight of course—"

"Oh grandsire," Orion said, distressed by all the information. His optics wide and fearful, "Can you…can you just throw those letters away? I don't wanna see them ever….ever again!"

"What do you mean, little one?" The Archivist knelt down as close as he could to the sparkling's level.

Orion threw himself at his grandsire's chest, hiding against the metal and almost crying.

"What is this about?" Alpha Trion asked, rubbing Orion's back to soothe him. The sparkling's sudden outburst was unlike him, and Orion never wanted to throw any sort of data-pad out, no matter how bad the material was.

"Just throw them away." Orion begged, sniffling and sobbing, "Please? I don't wanna look at them. My insides are twisting. Make it stop."

Alpha Trion tried to understand why Orion was acting so strangely, but the sparkling was too distressed to even speak properly. The Archivist hushed the mechling, bouncing the crying form until the sobs ceased.

"There now, my brave one," Trion said softly, "Why are you so upset?"

Orion frowned, giving death glares to the inanimate writing pads. He groaned, little coughs breaking out as another fleet of tears gushed down his silvery face.

"Make it stop grandsire. Please," Orion pushed something against his grandsire's armor. It was a crumpled up data pad covered all over with smiling faces and phrases saying _'you make me happy'_ _and 'I like the funny faces you make.'_

"Oh little one," Alpha Trion began. Judging from Orion's sensitive state and his insistence on destroying the letters, the Archivist came up with one conclusion.

Orion just had his very first rejection.

"I just want it to stop." Orion mumbled. He hiccupped between the words. He tried to wipe his optics clean but new tears seemed to gush out each time he moved.

"You will be alright," Alpha Trion said, gently stroking the quaking helm. He lifted up Orion's chin so their eyes met, "It hurts to have your spark so disappointed, but have faith brave one that there will be many others out there who'll line up to simply speak to you. Many others you haven't even met yet. First love may hurt, but it isn't the end at all."

"Really?"

"Yes, youngling"

"How…how many are lining up?" The sparkling said timidly, "Is it a lot?"

The Archivist laughed

"When you are older, I'm certain you'll have half of Iacon at the door begging to see you."

Instead of providing the comfort Trion thought it would, his words just made Orion cry and scream like never before.

"Don't let them grandsire! Don't them!"

"Orion, what is going on? I thought you'd be happy to know that so many will admire you."

"But I already have four that already do that," Orion sobbed, "And…and I don't like it at all. They bother me and send me these…these letters and I can't listen in class cause they're always poking me and trying to pass me notes, and I…I don't want half of Iacon to do the same thing!"

"Wait, so these letters aren't written by you?" Trion said, "You weren't writing to someone?"

"No. I didn't write one thing for anyone. All those came from other students in the class." Orion explained. He pointed to the offending notes, "They keep asking me stuff and I don't wanna talk to them. I just wanna hide."

Alpha Trion was stumped for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. He decided to laugh, pat the sparkling's back, and settle the fussy child against his shoulder.

"Oh Orion, forgive me. I thought all this while it was you who was composing these notes for someone you admire. Now I know it is the other way around."

For some odd, unexplainable reason the fact that Orion was the one being pursued made the Archivist's spark twist. With Orion writing them, the letters seemed adorable. Orion was a sweet, innocent child; any notes from him would never offend or harm anyone. But now the knowledge that not only one but four strange mechlings had their optics on his darling grandchild suddenly changed the nature of those notes.

They were no longer sweet and harmless. No. Now they were notes of harassment brimming with malicious ulterior motives and cruel intent.

'_If I had a credit for each mech as cute as you. I'd have one credit,' _If Alpha Trion had one credit for each homicidal thought bogging down his processor at the notion of someone harassing Orion he'd be the wealthiest, most energon-stained mech in Cybertron.

'_You like books. I like you. Can I check you out?'_ The Archivist could literally feel is energon boiling over. How dare this writer even suggest—

'_Be Mine'_—And what did this sparkling think of Orion? Some toy he could say was his own? He didn't raise Orion to be some trinket for just anyone to possess.

'_You are fun. You make my spark jump,'_ …

The implication of that statement, as innocent as they were coming from a sparkling, was the worst of the lot.

What in the name of all things scared was meant by "fun?" And why in the entire damn universe would sparks be jumping at any point? Paranoia gripped him, and the Archivist quickly glanced at his grandchild's body, his anger easing a bit when he saw the chest-plates still wonderfully sealed. The momentary relief was almost immediately squashed. Somewhere, out there, were sparklings who were giving Orion far too much unwanted attention. And by all the power at his disposal, Alpha Trion was determined to hunt them down, talk to them mech to mech, investigate their entire familes if need be and—

"Um….Grandsire?"

Orion's timid voice barely got through to Trion, who was too busy composing the most intimating 'do not even look at my grandchild' threats in his processor to even notice that Orion was now worried for _him_.

"Grandsire, are you ok?"

"What?" The Archivist snapped out of his thoughts as Orion began to giggle softly, "I see nothing funny about this situation."

"Grandsire, your face….it looks weird," Orion smiled, "I think the metal's melting!"

"Now you're just being silly."

"But it is! Look, your face is turning a funny color."

"Just never mind it," Alpha Trion shook his helm. With a sigh he set Orion down, trying his best to be calm and collected for the child's sake, "I'll put these notes away. Right now, I just want you to get yourself cleaned up. Then afterwards, we'll have some energon treats together. How does that sound little one?"

"Really? Thank you grandsire! You're the best," Orion hugged one of the Archivist's legs. He looked up at the older mech, his silly little grin bright and wide, "I don't ever wanna leave you. Ever."

"Silly mechling, of course you have to leave sometimes. How else will you learn?" Alpha Trion smiled in return, gently pushing the sparkling towards the direction of the wash racks, "Now go on. The sooner you've cleaned up, the sooner we can dine."

"Yes sir," Orion said. Just before he turned the corner to the wash racks he stooped and turned back, his blue optics shining in all their blind innocence.

"Is there anything the matter?"

"Oh, nothing grandsire," Orion shrugged, "I just wanted to make sure you were still there."

"Little one, I will always be here. Now go."

Orion obeyed, and when the sparkling was gone from sight the Archivist wasted no time deactivating the numerous tablets. His anger eased when the messages faded one by one. He gathered up the tablets, making a note to have one of the clerks sanitize the data to prevent the horrid love letters from ever being seen again. It unnerved him, it truly did, to think that at such a young age the mechling already attracted quite a bit of attention. Given the sparkling's reaction, Orion was nowhere near ready for such things. But he would not be sparkling forever, and one day his feelings would change. One day he would be ready to welcome suitors without crying or running to his grandsire for help. Alpha Trion however, couldn't bear to entertain the thought.

But like some horrible wreck, the idea could not leave his processor. As he fed Orion the promised energon treats, he simply watched the youngling. It was strange and comforting all at once to see how easily delighted he was in anything the red and blue youngling would say or do. The child was far from perfect, but even with his faceplates smeared with energon treats the sparkling's smile and laughs were as bright as any gem Cybertron's mines could ever offer. There was a twist in the old mech's spark to think that those smiles and laughs may one belong to someone else. Or worse yet, that they'll be taken from Orion by heartbreak or rejection.

When Orion finally fell asleep on his crib Alpha Trion stayed behind a little bit longer than usual, just to make sure the youngling was truly at peace. As he was rearranging the scattered datapads on the shelves, a solution to his problem finally occurred to him. He immediately scoffed at the idea. It was such a trivial thing to worry about anyways. He wouldn't need to use the Covenant. The Covenant shouldn't be used for that sort of thing. It might not even reveal anything remotely related to Orion's future love life. And why would the Covenant even take interest in his grandchild's future romances anyway? Surely it couldn't be that significant….

Alpha Trion tried to think of excuses not to consult the ancient relic, and he was still trying to think of even more as he was opening the book, searching the pages for any hint of Orion's future suitors.

"My apologizes for this slight misuse," Alpha Trion prayed softly as the glyphs began to form coherent words. He saw Orion's name appear, and his spark were dread when he realized that the relic was going to reveal something he wasn't even sure he was ready for.

The Archivist sighed and kept reading.

"It's just a little glimpse. Just a little. It can't possibly be that bad…"

* * *

The next morning Orion was surprised to find that certain data streams were completely blocked from his access. He tried multiple times to connect to the grid, but there were numerous firewalls and security codes that seemed to magically pop up every time he tried to search a particular topic.

Alpha Trion meanwhile, was watching him intently. For an organized, dignified mech, his thoughts were all a clutter. He kept his mouth shut for as long as he could, not knowing which one of the many responses in his mind would come spewing out.

_You are never stepping out of these Halls again!_

_I will weld your pedals to the floor if I have to! _

_Where did I go wrong?_

_When will I go wrong?_

_As soon as your of age I am arranging your marriage!_

_I'm arranging it today. Right now. _

_Why Orion? Why must you fancy the bad ones?_

A dozen other responses flew through his head.

Finally, a very frustrated Orion asked…

"Grandsire, can you fix this? I can't get any newsfeed from Kaon. When can I hear about the gladiator tournaments again?"

And after an entire night tossing, turning, panicking, reconfiguring the security networks in Orion's room, and stressing over what he'll say to Orion, the Archivist only had two words.

"No" and "Never."

* * *

A/N: Imagine how Trion will react years later when a certain gladiator shows up for Orion's affections. Hehehe, headcanon dictates Orion had a flare for bad boys ;) Up next, an attempt at artistry goes horribly, horribly wrong, but then again…it all depends on who you ask.


	4. Comfort

A/N: Here we go folks, another chap. Infinite will be updated next (finally *sigh*) Idea for this chap came from the reviewers, most of them wanted to see Orion getting in trouble in the Halls for various reasons. Enjoy!

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4: Comfort

"What in the name of Primus—"

Alpha Trion could scare believe the amount of ugly grey paint splattered all over his precious Hall of Records. Stacks of datapads were knocked down, their screens smeared with paint and flashing various error messages. A disgruntled clerk was holding the ruined datapads against his chest, as if for some odd reason I would revive all the work that was lost. He wailed as another datapad shut down, suddenly snapping when he realized his superior had just stepped in.

"Alpha Trion," The clerk's words were drowned in sobs, "It's ruined. All of it is ruined! Look at this. We'd be asking for a miracle if we could save any of the data in these."

"What happened here?" The Master Archivist asked, trying to sound as calm as possible, "Can anyone explain to me why it looks like some animal was dipped in paint and let loose to run the Halls?"

Another clerk spoke up, his face flushed bright with energon, optics infuriated.

"I don't want to insult anybot or anything but….but Orion did this!" The clerk said, rolling his optics, not caring if Alpha Trion saw or not, "Your little one ran out of the classroom covered helm to pedal in wet paint. Look at what he did to the floors, to the stacks! To everything he touched!"

A pair of little pedal prints on the once pristine floors indeed pointed to one obvious culprit. The tale was in the paint…the stains, smears, and puddles of it indicating how Orion ran, tripped, hid, and jumped in order to evade some unknown captor.

"I will speak to him regarding this. He may be under my care but this will not be ignored." Alpha Trion assured them. The wailing mech nodded, lamenting over the death of his beloved datapads while the other just crossed his scrawny arms and scowled.

The Archivist sighed and brought his servo up to try and ease his brows from creasing beyond their capacity.

"Oh Orion, Orion." Alpha Trion whispered as he attempted to regain his composure, "What has gotten into your systems?"

Before the elderly mech could even ask where his grandson was, a sudden stream of angry shouts burst from one of the adjoining rooms. Alpha Trion immediately rushed in just in time to see a sight that nearly paralyzed him from rage.

There, backed up against the far corner was Orion. The tiny mechling's body was sticky with thick globs of grey and silver paint, the substance quickly pooling at his feet. The young one's face was splattered, and there were long messy streaks of tears marring the plates beneath his optics. Looming above him, arms flailing and vocals screaming at full force was a data clerk known for both his quick processor and for having the nastiest temper this side of Iacon. Gravos.

"Do you realize what you've done, you little glitch?" The mech was bright faced, his words booming over the sparkling, "Do you know the amount of work we've lost because you decided to run through our Halls like some mindless barbarian? Good Primus, Orion. You're the damn grandson of the Head Archivist! Can't you show a little more refinement than this? More respect for our work?"

"I—I'm—"

"No. I won't hear any excuses," Gravos' yellow optics flared.

"I'm sorry," Orion blurted out, meekly reaching out to touch one of Gravos' pedals in a gesture of good will.

The mech flinched back in disgust, muttering curses Orion never heard before.

"Do not touch me," Gravos warned, "I've been stomaching your presence here since Alpha Trion took you in. And for his sake we've all been patient with you. But I won't allow a little scraplet from Kaon to unleash such monstrous tendencies in these Halls."

Orion did not speak anymore. He retreated into the corner, frame curling into itself as he bowed his helm down, body shaking as the cruel words continued.

"It amazes me. Astounds all of us really. Why? Out of all the needy little orphans in that youth sector why in the name of Primus did the Archivist have to pick you?"

"ENOUGH!"

Gravos' spark nearly leapt out of his chamber in fright. Orion looked up, his optics fresh, wet, and burning from silent tears.

"M—Master Trion," Gravos stuttered, "Forgive me but this grandchild of yours has no business running about with paint all over him, destroying our Halls—"

"And you have no business at all to berate him," Alpha Trion walked over, his sheer height and build full and imposing, "I want you back to your posts. All of you. I will sort this mess out."

"But sir he is—"

"He is my concern. Not yours. Nor anyone else's." Alpha Trion replied, "Return to your post. If I repeat myself again I will have your audios inspected. And if that doesn't work then I'll have your processors reprogrammed to help you better comprehend simple instructions."

Gravos appeared ready to burst in renewed anger over the reprimand. Alpha Trion meanwhile, appeared able and ready to carry his threat out.

"Grandsire?" Orion peeped, "Grandsire?"

With the Archivist distracted, Gravos took the opportunity to storm out, grumbling about how unfair the entire world was.

"Aye, my little one. What happened?" Alpha Trion asked, kneeling down.

Orion shook his helm, wiped the tears from his faceplates, and ran into his grandsire's open arms. He hid himself in the Archivist's embrace, allowing his cries to drown against the warm, comforting frame.

* * *

"Perhaps we should convert your washracks into your new berthroom," Alpha Trion joked, "It would be a lot easier on both of us that way."

Usually Orion would either laugh or groan in response to his grandsire's attempts at humor, but this time the sparkling was quiet and still, completely allowing the older mech scrub the paint away from him. The silence was an awkward one, broken only by the constant stream of cleaning solution and Orion's sniffles. More than once the Archivist had to repeat the cleaning cycle to get the offending paint from his grandchild, carefully making sure the usual red and blue colors remained intact. A nasty puddle of dark grey paint and solvent collected on the floor, and for some reason Orion's optics were transfixed by the swirling colors.

"Will you let me know what happened?" Alpha Trion asked, "I will not be upset, I assure you." He turned off the stream and lifted his grandchild from the wet floor, wrapping him in fresh cleansing cloths.

Orion shook his helm, rubbing his optics to hide them from his grandsire's watchful gaze. The old mech gently pulled the sparkling's servos away. The mechling's face was flushed, his blue optics shining from a new burst of tears.

"Primus little one," Alpha Trion said, "What has brought such grief to you? And why were you covered in all that paint?"

"We—we were using it in class." Orion said softly, "I was trying to do make something for you. But then—"

The sparkling bit his liplates to keep them from trembling.

"Then what, my little one?"

"Th—they threw paint over me." Orion whispered, "They said I shouldn't wear blue and red. They s—said I should have ugly grey and silver colors cause—cause that's what the miners wear in Kaon."

The sparkling looked up at Alpha Trion, his hurt bare, raw, and bright in his optics.

"Cause that where you found me right grandsire? That's what they keep t—telling me."

"What?"

"They said you just found me. Picked me up from the scrapheap. Gave me new colors and took my claws away, changed my optics and—"

"You know none of that is true right?" Alpha Trion stroked Orion's helm gently, trying his best to soothe his grandchild's fears. But for once, his simple assurance was not enough.

"Then why are they saying that the only time you went to Kaon, you came back with me?" Orion asked, his voice breaking, "And my creators. How come no one has seen them? How come _I_ haven't seen them? They said my sire was a criminal and my carrier—Oh Grandsire—"

"Listen to me," Alpha Trion said. He knelt down and brought Orion close to him, their optics fixed on each other, "Listen very well Orion. I do not know where you've heard these lies. But I want you to ignore them."

"But grandsire—"

"What's past is gone." The Archivist said, "It is dead. And it matters not to me where you came from. You are my grandson and the greatest blessing Primus has ever given me. Let no one tell you otherwise."

The sparkling smiled between his sobs.

"Besides, who will you really believe? Those gossips, bratlings, and idle-minds or your grandsire?"

"You," Orion leaned in as his caretaker wiped his tears away.

"There now. That's a brave mechling," Alpha Trion said, laughing at bit when Orion tried to climb onto his shoulder. The old mech helped him along. Soon the sparkling was resting his little blue helm against the crook of his grandsire's neck.

"Oh…" Orion suddenly shifted and reached for the small subspace on his leg. He took something from the pocket, it was remarkably tiny and half-crushed. He held it up for his grandsire to see , "This was the thing I was trying to make for you. But it's all ugly and funny lookin' now."

"Oh no, my little spark, no, not at all—" Trion said, smiling and taking the crushed slab of stone. In truth it really was ugly, and it resembled nothing more than a few blobs of color. But it was Orion's offering. And in Alpha Trion's optics nothing the child created could ever be anything less than a masterpiece.

"I'm really, really bad at painting."

"No you're not. You just need practice. As you will in any discipline and craft." Alpha Trion said, "I bet even Solus needed to practice forging weapons. I can just imagine her tossing aside all her ruined projects, creating a mountain of mistakes high enough to touch the sky. And if a Prime can't get things perfectly on the first try, then you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."

* * *

The Archivist regarded how carefully Orion drew on the stone slate, smiling at how the little one's brows narrowed his concentration like it was the most serious task in all of Cybertron. The elderly mech turned to review the newly registered data streams when he heard a small voice command—

"Hold still!"

"And why is that Orion?"

"Just hold still grandsire!" Orion said, scribbling away at the stone. He took a red stylus and drew several lines across the slate. He looked up at his grandsire, mentally measuring the dimensions of the older mech's face.

The Archivist did as ordered, humoring the sparkling's new found zeal for the arts.

"Ah ha!" Orion declared, proudly holding up the picture for his grandsire to see, "Do you like it?"

"Oh," Alpha Trion scanned the drawing, trying to search for something that even remotely resembled… whatever in Primus' name that was.

"It looks just like you!" Orion prompted, "See?"

"Oh, is that me? It's very—artistic." Alpha Trion knew he wasn't the best looking mech in Cybertron, but even he hoped he didn't appear as Orion depicted.

"It looks just like you. See?" Orion said, pointing at the features of the face, "Same optics, mouth, helm design, and even colors! Red, like that bit of your armor."

The newly self-proclaimed artist waited patiently for confirmation on a project turned successful.

"Well then little spark, this face here appears rather—sad," Alpha Trion smiled a bit. He took the stone slab and held it up so Orion could compare between art and inspiration, "Do I look sad to you?"

"No. Not sad," The mechling giggled, "Just grumpy."

"Grumpy?" Alpha Trion seemed genuinely offended. He scowled, his optic ridges narrowing.

"See?" Orion laughed, pointing his delicate fingers towards his grandsire's face, "It looks just like you. I even put in how your face kinda pulls down when you get annoyed."

"But surely I do not look this stoic? And these optics," The Archivist noted the odd triangular shapes with a single line going down each one, "You make it look like I am crying. And my nose ridge is a bit more defined than this. And the helm crest is just—"

"Oh grandsire," Orion said, his voice sweet and bright, "Can't you see? I tried to be nice."

"Nice?"

"Uh huh," The sparkling looked up at him, the mischief dancing in the brilliance of his optics, "I was actually being very, very nice. I made you tons better looking in the picture!"

"Why you little sparkbite!"

Orion jumped, laughing and spinning away as his grandsire ran after him. The nimble child dodged the mech's arms. He dared to stick out his glossa playfully at his grandsire while the old mech huffed and puffed his way around the room. The laughter and bright smiles gracing that room brought more joy to the Archivist than he dared to admit. Such simple things had lost their power long ago, the happiness of such gestures long banished from his spark and mind. But Orion had resurrected, fueled, and nurtured the light within his spark he thought vanquished long ago. The child's happiness, in perfect truth, had become the Archivist's delight and source of his both joy and strength.

"Aha!" The Archivist found his chance, leapt forward, and gently scooped the restless sparkling in his arms.

"H—Hey, P—put m-me down! Grandsire!" Orion could barely even speak as his vocalizer erupted in a string of laughter. The elder mech brushed the sparkling's faceplates, the tickling motions making the little one curl in further into his embrace.

"Oh really now?" Alpha Trion tossed him carefully in the air. It wasn't even that high of a toss, but to the sparkling it felt like flying.

"Silly grandsire," Orion said, his grin so big and bright the librarian wondered how Primus could have fit such joy in a single child, "Again. Again!"

"No more my dear Orion," He settled the child against his chest, "Not today at least."

"Tomorrow? Please?"

"Ah, but tomorrow you have to attend your lessons,"

At this Orion's face suddenly changed. He frowned, his scowl a bit deeper than it should be for one so young.

"I don't wanna go back," Orion whispered, "Please grandsire? I don't think I can."

"Do not fret. I shall speak with the instructors of the learning center," Alpha Trion reassured him, gently rocking the sparkling in his arms and patting his back to soothe him, "I will not tolerate anyone berating you again. I will not let this go lightly. Understand?"

Orion nodded, but his doubts were still there, evident by how his optics shifted or how his tiny servos restlessly searched for a tighter hold on his guardian.

The Archivist sighed. The sound of his vents was heavy and strangely comforting to Orion. The librarian glanced at the stone slab, which by some miracle didn't get crushed during their chase. He picked it up, smiling at Orion's attempts to capture him.

Alright, the drawn face did slightly resemble him. Slightly.

Something clicked suddenly in Trion's mind. He looked at the picture and then at the anxious child in his arms.

"Orion, I shall settle you for recharge now. Why don't you pick out a story tonight? Read it on your own? Practice some deciphering and scribing?"

"But you always read to me grandsire," Orion reminded him, a bit of disappointment hinting out of those words.

"I know little one," Alpha Trion replied, "But there is something I must attend to first."

* * *

Orion was already half way done with the first volume of his story collection when Alpha Trion returned.

"Grandsire, where did you go? What did you do?" The sparkling asked, standing on the tips of his peds, trying to climb out of his crib. Alpha Trion leaned over the crib, motioning the restless child to settle back down.

"Here," The old mech said, he reached out and placed a tiny circular object onto Orion's waiting palms, "I want you to keep it with you."

"But—" Orion looked up, holding the stone carefully, "This is just like the picture I gave you."

"It is," Alpha Trion said, "I made an exact copy on a stone small enough for you to always carry. I cleaned the design a bit, but otherwise it remains the same."

Orion inspected the emblem inscribed on the stone.

"But why?" The sparkling asked.

His grandsire smiled, gently rubbing the side of Orion's helm.

"That way, little one, if you ever need to feel like a brave warrior again, just look at it and remember me."

"Oh," Orion said, his face was suddenly cross with worry, "But grandsire, what if—what if the other students are mean to me again?"

"They won't," Alpha Trion said, his voice a bit harsher than intended, "Nor anyone else. Not while I'm your backup."

A sweet, soft smile appeared Orion's face, the simple grace of it lighting the room. He lifted his tiny arms up, reaching for his grandsire's embrace. The older mech did not resist, scooping the sparkling up in his massive arms.

"Thank you grandsire," Orion yawned, leaning his helm down to listen to the strong and gentle beat of Trion's spark, "I really, really, love you."

_Primus, this all would have been easier if the child wasn't this sweet. _

"I know my little one," Alpha Trion said, tenderly rocking the bundle in his arms to slumber, "I know."

When the young one's blue optics faded out his caretaker carefully settled him down on the crib, wrapping the warming blanket around him. As was his habit, Orion snuggled deeper into the blanket. Only this time he kept the comfort stone close to his spark, peaceful in the knowledge that his grandsire would be there when he awoke.

And as Orion slept through that night, Alpha Trion read through the elusive pages of the Covenant. There were no words to describe what he felt when he saw the same insignia in the future as a symbol of hope, protection, and freedom. A symbol destined to be worn by a proud, brave, and benevolent faction that had not yet come to pass. But for now, in the dark and silent night, it was just getting stated as an imprint on a little sparkling's comfort stone.

* * *

A/N: Currently drowning from all the cheese…oh and review please, baby Orion would want that, really he would ^_^


End file.
